


Lucky Men

by Mychelle_Wilmot



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful, Cabins, Conversations about Fairy Tales, Domestic Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mychelle_Wilmot/pseuds/Mychelle_Wilmot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I feel like I walked into a fairy tale. A Grimms' fairy tale to be more precise. A little house in the woods, a fireplace, hot chocolate and a cannibal. It’s strangely fitting.”</p><p>Will and Hannibal had fled away from the USA safely, and they both were ready to start a new life in a new continent, but an unforeseen factor forced them to improvise and find new accommodations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Men

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the #ItsStillBeautiful event, this fic takes place a few months after The Wrath of the Lamb. Unbeta’d.

* * *

            This was not how Will had thought their arrival on a new country would be like.

            Not that Will had concrete plans in his head - he didn’t imagine what the house would look like, how big or opulent it would be, how the neighbourhood would be like. He was open for many possibilities, especially considering that Hannibal often had an ace up his sleeve that would surprise Will.

            However, nothing would have prepared him for _this_.

            “Well, at least we didn’t need to break the door.”

            Hannibal side-eyed him, clearly annoyed, but Will didn’t pay him attention. He knew Hannibal wasn’t annoyed at him, but at their situation.

            “At least I am relieved to know that I was right and that we still have some lucky on our side.”

            Will looked at their luggage, at Hannibal’s clean clothes and his own unstained shirt, and he then looked at the dusty house, at the empty chimney and the old, mouldy couch.

            Will suppressed a sigh, thinking about what his life had become, and in how different the day had started, being sure of just one single thing: life with Hannibal would always be full of surprises.

* * *

            The truth was that they had just arrived from USA, and the country was completely unknown for both of them. Hannibal had claimed that he wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but he could have fooled Will, considering how well he seemed to speak the language, while most of time Will could hardly have any grasp of what was being said, having only a shitty grasp of Spanish, thanks to shitty high school Spanish classes.

             It hardly mattered now; Will was very anxious during the entire flight, but now that they landed in another continent, he felt completely calm and in control of himself. They had done the hardest part; they got away safely, and his inability with the local language was of no importance. He would learn, alone and with Hannibal’s help, and he would adapt.

            Right after their arrival they bought a car. It was a very common model, black, cheap-looking and it was going to give them some anonymity, which proved to be a sound investment when they stopped to buy gas and some supplies in a convenience store.

            Will only saw it by chance; he was checking the shelves when his eyes landed on the small TV on the corner  and he saw his own face looking back at him. 

            Despite feeling panicked in the same instant, Will managed to stay calm and discreetly pull Hannibal’s sleeve, indicating the TV with his head.

            Will’s capacity of understanding Spanish was only slightly better than his capacity of speaking it, but it was enough for him to understand that it was a commercial of an journalistic program, announcing an episode about _los esposos asesinos_. Will wasn’t familiar with any channels of this country, but the fact that it was on in a convenience store told him that it was more than likely a public and popular channel, and judging by the way Hannibal was looking at him, he seemed to think the same.

            When the commercial was over, they looked with worry at the young man in the cashier, but luckily enough he wasn't looking at the TV; he was typing nonstop on his phone, only raising his eyes for enough time to receive their money.

            When they returned to the road, both he and Hannibal agreed that they moving into a house right away would be too risky - some of their new neighbours could probably be a watcher of this popular channel, and they might recognize their faces if  they moved this soon after the program aired.

            These being the facts, they both agreed that they should delay their arrival for at least a month. It was difficult enough to get out of the States, and they didn’t need to make their lives worse for themselves when they had barely healed their bruised bodies.

            Their main problem was where to stay during this time, considering that Will thought that it would also be too risky to live in hotels during this time, and Hannibal agreed with the reasoning.

            “You know, Will,” Hannibal said after a time “We are near a forest, now. For what I know, there are many cabins in the wood in this region. Often abandoned cabins.”

            Will only stared at Hannibal for a time in disbelief of what he heard, knowing there was no way they would be this lucky.

* * *

            As it turned out, they were _this_ lucky. After only a few hours searching they found a little house, not too far from the road but far enough to be hidden from people.

            Will was afraid that the house would be inhabited, but when he looked at the mailbox he only found an yellow dunning letter, addressed to someone called Carmen Ramos. The date of the latter was from January, 2012.

            The house looked abandoned enough; nothing seemed to be broken, but everything seem to be old and uncared for. They didn’t find a key, but the door wasn’t locked.

            “While the conditions of the house are… precarious to say the least, I think it would be in our best interest to stay here.”

            “I agree,” Will sighed “I don’t think we’ll find better than this one, even if the lack of electrical energy is going to be a big problem.”

            Hannibal’s mouth twisted in displeasure.

            “I am frankly more worried about the lack of water. I think it should be our priority to find a source of potable water.”

            Will frowned a little.

            “I don’t know if it’s the case, but sometimes these cabins have an external source of water, because water companies often don’t come to these distant houses and the owners have to find alternate means...” Will walked to the sink and opened the water tap, smiling a little when clean water started to fall “See? External source.”

            “Fortunate for us then,” Hannibal said, his tone still serious, but looking more pleased with the promise of easy access to water “Now we only have to see if the chimney is still in conditions to be used.”

            “And we have to bring our luggage in here, and… we have to clean the house. There’s no way we can delay it if we are to stay here,” Will said, crestfallen with the realization of how much work they had to do.

            “We should go back to the town to get cleaning supplies,” Hannibal said in a less grave tone, and all of suddenly he seemed way too cheerful for Will.

            “Won’t it be too risky?”

            “Not if we are fast and if we find a small store that don't have security footage.”

            Will still seemed unsure, so Hannibal kept talking.

            “You said it yourself: if we are to stay here for longer than a week, we will have to clean this house. We will also need minimum supplies for hygiene and food, Will. We may have a roof up our heads now, but we need more than if we plan to stay for a while.”

            “Which we do,” Will sighed, resigned “Alright, let’s get started, then."

* * *

            As Will feared, they had a lot of work to do once they were back in the house with cleaning supplies and groceries. The house was small - a kitchen who was also a living room, a bedroom and a bathroom - but it was abandoned for a while, and by the time Will managed to let the bedroom clean enough for them to sleep, he was sneezing almost nonstop.

            To make it worst, it was Will who was doing most of the cleaning; Hannibal was helping him a little, but he was busy doing other necessary chores. He had tested the fireplace, satisfied to see it was working, and he had discovered that the house was equipped with a wood burning stove, also functional. Now he was chopping wood for both the stove and the fireplace; they would have no problem with it, considering that there was a lot of dead trees in that forest, existing alongside the living ones.

            Normally Will would have chosen chopping wood over cleaning a house every day, but he didn’t have this option. A week ago he had sprained his wrist, and while it didn’t hurt anymore, it still wasn’t fully healed for him to do use an axe without feeling any pain, as Hannibal had reminded him a few hours ago, when Will reluctantly accepted to be on charge of the cleaning duties.

            “You look particularly unhappy, Will,” Hannibal said, as he came inside with a armful of wood in his arms “I did not know you loathed domestic chores this much.”

            “I don’t have problem doing domestic chores. My problem is doing domestic chores in an overly dirty house that has been abandoned for at least a few years.”

            “You are doing just fine,” Hannibal was smiling as he deposited the wood on the fireplace “I’ve seen the bedroom. You did a remarkably work… just like you are doing here now.”

            He was still smirking a little as he said it, enjoying every second of Will’s misery. Bastard.

            “I’m fine with cleaning the bedroom and this room, but I’m just not touching the bathroom. That’s with you.”

            That made the infuriating smile fall off Hannibal’s face. Good. And really, a filthy bathroom shouldn’t be a big problem for him, considering that Hannibal had years of experience cleaning blood and guts out of several different surfaces.

            “Alright,” Hannibal agreed “But you finish cleaning the stove, and you put the new sheets in the bed.”

            “Deal.”

            A few minutes later, Will watched Hannibal walking to the bathroom with a bucket and a broom grinned a little, relieved that he wouldn’t have to remove any more dust or dead (and alive) spiders from anywhere, and concentrated in cleaning the chairs - the couch was a hopeless cause. They would have to line it with a clean sheet if they wanted to sit on it.

            It was in the middle of his musings that the reality of the situation suddenly hit him - he was playing house with Hannibal. Worst; he was actually _enjoying_ it.

            Of course, Will was aware that they would live in a sort of domesticity - he was aware that it had already happened long before they fled from the USA - but he didn’t expect it to be so natural, so immediate in a new territory. Their situation in this cabin forced them to learn how to cooperate quicker than he would have expected.

            He honestly wasn’t sure what to think about that.

            When they decided to run away for another country, Will thought that a lot of things might happen. He thought that they might get caught; he thought that they might get killed, that they might kill each other for no other reason than pure frustration. He thought that Hannibal might get bored and start a killing spree, leaving Will unsure in what to do to stop him, and he thought about leaving, but somehow the idea of simple, ordinary domesticity never passed for his head.

            But he supposed that he shouldn’t be this surprised - life with Hannibal was proving itself to be very different from what Will expected it to be. Even if they both had strong personalities, they were usually getting in a consensus these days without any blood getting spilled, and this made Will feel simultaneously confused and satisfied - it was like they were living in the same page for the first time in their lives.

            They also hadn’t killed anyone since the cliff, and that was just fine with Will. He no longer denied the pleasure he felt with a righteous killing, but he would rather not make it a habit, at least not so soon. He had just taken a huge turn on his life, and he wasn’t ready just yet for more radical transformations. Hannibal seemed willing to let Will get used in this new life, and considering how much it had changed, Will was willing to get as much time as he could get of untainted peace.

            Shaking his head, Will turned his attention once more to the dirty chairs. When he looked at the sky out the window, he saw that there were clouds in the horizon, and he wanted it to be washed clean before the storm arrived.  

* * *

            The rain arrived with the nightfall, coming down earlier than Will expected, and coming down hard.

            Hannibal had reunited enough wood for both the fireplace and the wood burning stove, and they were the only source of light on the house now that they both were lit.

            The cold arrived with the wind and the rain, and Will sought warmth in a chair by the fireplace, already dreading the time they would have to move to the icy bedroom.

            “I found the source of water when I was chopping the wood. It’s a well; it is fairly well hidden under the leaves.”

            Hannibal was once again by the stove; they had already eaten, a simple dish with rice and roasted potatoes. Will could see the displeasure on Hannibal’s face for serving something so mundane, but they hardly had a choice here, especially because they only had one pan.

            “We’re lucky it never dried out.”

            “Indeed. Lucky seems to be a common theme for us today, despite our accommodations.”

            Will only answer was a smile, not disagreeing with the feeling.

            Silence settled between them, and Will observed Hannibal’s profile in the fire’s light, the way that the flames and the shadows danced on his face.

            “What are you doing?” Will asked eventually.

            “I am boiling some water.”

            “Yes, I can see it. What for?”

            “I want to prepare us a hot beverage before we head to the bed. I have the strong impression that the bedroom will be very cold.”

            “Tea?”

            Hannibal shook his head.

            “There weren’t any tea bags in the store we went to, much less real tea leaves. We will have to make do with that awful chocolate powder you bought.”

            Will snorted. It wasn’t even a favourite beverage - he had bought the cocoa in an impulse, and he hadn’t thought that Hannibal would ever want to drink cheap cocoa, not even in their current situation.

            “It isn’t that bad. Of course, the taste will not be the best if we’re doing it with water, but...”

            “We can hardly make it with milk when we don’t have a fridge to keep it. Or electrical light, for that matter.”

            “Never thought I would see the day that you would drink something like that,” Will observed, trying to not chuckle.

            “I do not have other choice.  We are not in possession of anything else, not even alcohol,” Hannibal sighed “Today we will have to do drink this. It will be hot, at least.”

            Will smiled at that, and once again they settled in comfortable silence.

            It was only when Hannibal took the water out of the stove and started to prepare the hot chocolates that Will let a laugh escape from his lips.

            Hannibal didn’t ask why he was laughing, but he turned his head to Will’s direction, a curious glint in his eyes.

            “I feel like I walked into a fairy tale. A Grimms' fairy tale to be more precise. A little house in the woods, a fireplace, hot chocolate and a cannibal. It’s strangely fitting.”

            Hannibal didn’t smile, but his voice betrayed his mirth when he spoke again.

            “Grimm Brothers' stories were indeed much more gruesome than your sugar-coated fairy tales of today. When I was a child, I was much more partial to their version of the stories than the ones that are popular today.”

             “I can’t say it’s a surprise.”

            Even with his face obscured by the shadows, Will was able to see that Hannibal was smiling.

            “I must admit that our lives do have some common aspects with their tales.”

            “To put it mildly.”

            “But tell me, Will; what are we in this lovely scenery? The kind-hearted protagonists or the wicked villains?”

            “Neither. Both.”

            “How so?”

            “Well, we are most certainly the monsters of many people’s lives. In a lot of ways you’re still the monster of my life,” Will saw Hannibal’s lips curve in a slow smile “And yet…”

            “Yet?”

            “No villain of a fairy tale would consider themselves to be the baddies. If you ask the wolf, it was Little Red Riding Hood who invaded his territory. If you ask Maleficent, she was only answering to an insult made to her for absolutely no reason. Every villain is the hero of his own history.”

            “Every action can be justified, so your label depends on your point of view,” Hannibal concluded his thoughts, finishing mixing up their chocolates.

            “Exactly.”

            Carrying the two steamy cups, Hannibal gave one to him, dragged a chair from the table and put it beside Will’s chair, sitting by his side.

            “Are we then the heroes of our own fairy tale, Will?”

            “Strange to think of us in these terms. I always thought we would be more suited for a Greek tragedy,” Will mused “But yes, considering where we are right now, I suppose so. Fairy tales are bloody and violent enough for us.”

            Hannibal nodded with a little smile that soon turned into a grimace as he took a sip from his cup.

            “It can’t be that bad,” Will shook his head and took a sip of his own cup, grimacing too “Ow. Actually, it can.”

            “I will find something at least… drinkable for us tomorrow,” Hannibal said, forcing himself to take another sip.

            “That might be a good idea,” Will said, also forcing himself to drink more. The taste was still bad, but he could at least feel warmth starting to spread into his chest.

            For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, both staring at the fire still burning bright.

            “You just told me that we are the heroes of our own dark fairy tale, Will,” Hannibal eventually spoke “So tell me: how do you envision our end? As a happily ever after, like today’s fairy tales?”

            Will laughed softly at this.

            “No. It doesn’t matter our point of view - we’re still the monsters of this story. There’s only one ending for you and me, and it involves blood and tears. I just...”

            Hannibal cocked his head.

            “Just what?”

            “I just hope that when it happens, it will happen for both of us.”

            Hannibal remained in silence, to which Will was grateful - he felt vulnerable after he made his confession, and it was nice to not have Hannibal make him talk more and over analyze his feelings.

            Together they resumed drinking their chocolates; outside, the first thunders of the storm could be heard.

* * *

             When the thunders started to become too frequent, they decided to retire to the bedroom.

            Now the storm was strong than ever, and they could see the luminosity of the lightening over the old, thin curtains of the bedroom.

            They were lying down face to face on the bed, Will with his face pressed into Hannibal’s neck, Hannibal with his arms around him. It was both a protection against the cold - it was freezing now, and they only had one blanket - and a source of comfort. During their convalescence, they started sharing a bed for practical reasons, but somehow along the way it turned into mutual enjoyment.

            Will was still thinking about the things that happened that day, the things they had said to each other, about his own grim predictions of their future and if there was really any truth on them.

            It was true that if they were to die, Will would want to die with Hannibal; they had already tried separation in their lives, more than once, and it was a understatement to say that it didn’t work. They were too entwined in each other’s minds for it to have a chance to work.

            There was also the factor that he was never an overly optimistic man; Hannibal might be quiet these days, but a beast in hibernation was still a beast, and soon or later Hannibal would want to taste blood again. Worst yet - his own hibernated monster might get hungry before Hannibal does, and Will just knew that if they started to kill people, if they started to get reckless, there wouldn’t be a plea of insanity to save them this time if they were caught.

            But even if optimism wasn’t his strongest suit, the weight of the day’s events was starting to get to him. They had indeed a remarkably lucky in discovering about the journalistic program that would air about them before heading to their new house, lucky in getting isolated accommodations so easily, lucky to be sheltered and relatively safe in this storm.

            All this lucky made Will feel oddly fearful, because lucky like this was starting to get to him. Was starting to make him think that this could actually work out. That while he was ready to die with Hannibal, he might have to learn how to live with him.

            It also made him question if it was such a bad idea.

            Once this mere thought would be sickening, but so much had happened. An entire life worth of experiences, and Will was a different man. Four years ago he would be disgusted with himself, but right now, lying in Hannibal’s arms in a shitty cabin on a foreign country, his only thought was that it seemed to be the beginning of the most interesting part of his life.

            “Will?” Hannibal suddenly spoke against his hair, his voice slightly hoarse.

            “Did I woke you up?” Will asked.

            “No. You just seem to be quite restless. Is something the matter?”

            Will sighed against Hannibal’s skin.

            “I was thinking about what we talked earlier. About fairy tales and its endings.”

            Will could almost feel the curiosity radiating off Hannibal.

            “What were you thinking about it?”

            “I don’t know, I just… - Will paused a little, shifting a little so he would be able to speak better - I was thinking that it might be nice if the villains got to live in the end. If instead of being killed, they managed to get away after being injured, and that they might be fine after all.”

            Hannibal took a few seconds to answer him.

            “This is an incredible optimistic view, considering your cynical tendencies.”

            “I suppose it is,” Will conceded “But I would like if this happens. I’m having all sorts of new thoughts lately. And this... this is a nice thought. And I want it to be true.”

            Hannibal didn’t answer with words, but Will felt a kiss pressed against his head, and felt Hannibal’s arms tightening around him, and it was enough, more than enough to make him truly believe in that moment that the monsters might get they happily ever after, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I only write fluffy murder husbands dear god why
> 
> But anyway, thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always, always welcome.


End file.
